“And what?” I prompt.
“Your scent.” The lightest hue of pink tints his cheeks. “It’s that perfume you wear. I’d recognize it anywhere.”
I wave him off dismissively. “I don’t wear perfume.”
“Yet you always smell of rosemary.”
It takes everything in me not to flinch. I wasn’t lying—Idon’tuse perfume—but Sef adorns my hair with rosemary oil. I’m stunned Kaidren noticed.
I hide my surprise behind a scoff. “You saw brown eyes and smelled rosemary. That’s hardly irrefutable proof.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Kaidren’s expression is stormy as he stalks closer and closer, until I am pressed to the window, his body fencing mine. He stoops, face a gasp away, our breaths intermingling. We’re close enough our noses would brush if I inclined my head. Close enough I see a vein thrumming furiously in his forehead. Close enough my pulse races with the fear he’s going to close the distance and touch me.
I flatten myself against the cold windowpanes and hold my breath, petrified my shallow inhales will be enough to bridge the narrow gap that divides us.
“Your eyes aren’t just brown.” His tone is harsh as his gaze flits over my face, soaking in every detail as though carving it into his memory. “They’re chestnut. But that doesn’t matter. You think eyes are distinguished by color? They’re not. Even when I thought you were a servant, there was a fire in them I’drecognize through smoke. The girl I fought in the arena wasyou. I am certain of it.”
I didn’t think there was enough space for him to draw nearer still, but he does.
My breath catches. All of him surrounds all of me, trapping me in a cage of flesh and fury. My heartbeat is frantic, as though trying to flee from my chest and the threat of his skin.
I say nothing and don’t move.
Kaidren’s glare is unwavering in its intensity. “Your scent isn’t just rosemary,” he murmurs. His eyes remain harsh, but his tone has softened. “It’s rosemary and dust and a faint hint of lemon. If you truly don’t use perfume, then it must be your soap, because I can smell it on you, even now. You want evidence I can present to the decurio? I have none. But I don’t need proof, because Iseeyou. More clearly now than before.”
He’s certainly looking at me as though he sees me. Deep brown eyes bore into mine, and my stomach inexplicably clenches in an unfamiliar emotion that isn’t fear. This close, there’s no escaping him. As much as it puts me on edge, there’s something mesmerizing about Kaidren when his veil of civility falls away. When he reveals the dark, desperate boy lurking under the surface.
He drags his heated stare over my face, until it rests on my lips. The gap between us crackles like a bonfire, and I find myself intensely aware of every pinprick of distance. With a twitch, I would feel his skin on mine—and hand him the power to burn me. Terrifying.Enticing. I never realized how closely intertwined the two are.
My ungloved hands creep up. Palms settle on his chest. His breath catches.
I shove him, hard as I can.
My mind is clouded from his proximity, but as he stumbles back, it clears. “You see nothing.”
He’s still only a pace away and eyeing me hungrily, as though he means to approach again.
I push from the window and duck under his arm. I won’t allow him another chance to corner me.
He turns with me, stalking my movements across the room. “You deny it?”
“Obviously.” I roll my eyes to hide how I’m still struggling to catch my breath. “You have nothing but baseless accusations, and you are far out of your depth. You came to Widow’s Hall thirsting for power. You assumed a few simple tricks were all it would take to steal it, but you were wrong.”
“Of the two of us, I’m not the one who has to steal power, Remira. I’m the son of an Honorate. The only thief here is you.”
“Better a thief than a fraud.” I’m near the table, facing him, back to the rest of the library, heart thudding so loud it hurts. “You claimed to be an isha to gain favor with the Republic. You claimed you came here to rid the Honorate of corruption. All the while, you’re no better than the rest of them.”
“I’m nothing like them.”
“You know what, I think you truly believe that,” I say. “As always, you’re wrong. You want the throne because you want power—not because you care to improve the Republic.”
His nostrils flare. “You have no idea what I want.”
“Don’t I?” I raise a challenging eyebrow. “How can you claim to me of all people that you’re not a liar? You tried to manipulate me. You faked kindness and friendship so you could coax me into betraying my own brother.”
“What do you care? You were pretending too.”
“Maybe. But I knew I was conning a conman. You had noidea I was faking anything. Tell me, Bastard Vale, what does that say about you?”
